Pages

Thursday, September 25, 2014

We are a team called The Spellbinders who have been bound
together by our team spirit, sense of humor and camaraderie. We are
collaborating and writing a story for the Blogadda challenge "Game of
Blogs". I feel we have successfully met the challenge of BA who asked 10
cooks to cook a broth with the ingredients they provided. To know about us, join us here.

The Shadows Gather

Malik woke up sweating.
He, never in his memory, had such a horrible dream. He got up from the chair he was sitting and
moved painfully to his bed, but did not lie down.

He turned on the news channel on the television. The reporter had a garish blue and red screen
to her side where graphics of a group of hooded figures did a strange dance
around a skeleton. The ticker tape said,
“Little Girl saved by divine intervention from Tantrics”.

He winced. He knew
the story, a girl had been lured away from a fishermen’s village in coastal
south India. She had been drugged and
tied to a stake while she was being knifed, slowly and deliberately. Her brothers had followed thinking it was
some kind of a funny game. But the sight that awaited them was horrible.
Alarmed one of them ran back and got the whole village to attack and rescue the
girl. Those freaks that were doing this
had fled by then. It had a dark,
moonless night. The brothers remembered
that the people were heavily cloaked and their hands were tattooed. The freaks even sang and danced like some
scary shadows thrown by flames on a windy night.

“Mind Freaks,” Aryan had called his book. Well, he did have a freaky mind and extremely
weird taste in research. What was more
disturbing was that just as he found Aryan’s research, this case had been
picked up by the TV news channels.
Coincidence? Or divine design as
the news reader called it. He drank two
glasses of water and shook his head.
Sleep was impossible now. The
body of the girl found in Mumbai had knife marks too.

He walked out where the police jeep was parked. His driver was asleep in the garage. He shook him gently and said, “Sorry, but we
have to go.”

The driver grunted and got up. Working with Malik even for a short period
changed people. They became used to
erratic behavior from bosses. He drove
Malik to the hospital and once the man entered, he curled up on the back seat
of the jeep and slept.

Malik walked into the ward where Aryan was resting with a
book in his hand. For once Malik’s stoic face carried a gentle smile. Aryan
Ahuja, the young bespectacled mischievous man was quite different from the
serious book he held in his hand, “The Devil on the Doorstep - My Escape from a
Satanic Sex Cult”. So far Aryan was the only person related to the case that
Malik had some positive feelings for; the rest were rotten apples, in one way
or other. Slowly in his mind, Malik did a serious evaluation of the people he
had met during the course of his investigation.

His initial softness for Shekhar had broken when he found
out how much he hated his girl and his peculiar response at her birth. A father
of a loving girl, he couldn’t imagine what man would do that and for what
reasons. The thoughts of his lovely Ruks made his heart feel so warm.

Tara was selfish woman who could step on heads to reach her
goals. Though she was a mother who was undergoing the trauma of not knowing
where her daughter was; for Malik, she was a pawn to be used to solve the
mystery of not just missing Roohi, but also the murders of many 9 year old
girls which had taken place in the past decade with some eerie connection
between them.

Jenny was nothing more than a gold-digger.

Cyrus was just a spoilt rich brat who was studying law, but
at the same time he thought himself to be above law. ‘God save his clients’
said Malik to himself with a chuckle that escaped his lips.

But here was a man who could help him in many ways to throw
some light on the people connected to this case. Wasn’t it a blessing from
above to find a neighbor to Datta’s and also childhood friend of Cyrus, who
studies people? Malik considered Aryan his trump card in this game filled with
dark mystery that brutally killed girls who had not enjoyed the world even for
a decade. He wanted to put the killer behind the bars, to show him what pain
is.

“Hi, couldn't sleep?” Aryan asked in his usual mischievous
way, before adding with exaggerated wonder written all over face, “and how come
they allowed you to see me?”

Malik shifted a bit uncomfortably. “Um, how are you feeling now?” he asked
Aryan.

“Oh, I see. The
policeman sneaked inside. Scared of the
nurses?”

“Very,” said Malik laughing openly now. “You definitely are better.”

“I am on my way to recovery, but the pain is still bothering
me” said Aryan wincing.

Aryan liked the gusty policeman who had what Aryan called
the coconut personality, all hard on outside but soft from within. Cyrus hated
this habit of his, to examine everyone, see through the exterior. He said it
was like disrobing people in public. He had a talent for this, something that
he did not learn on purpose. He could see people for what they are, unlike
Cyrus. This was the reason why Cyrus found Malik to be a very annoying
person.

Malik took a seat beside him and peeked into the cover of
the book, “The Devil on the Doorstep - My Escape from a Satanic Sex Cult”.

“More of the freaky minds for you Mister Aryan? Huh? I
couldn’t believe that such people exist among us” said Malik as a chill ran
down his spine.

“They do exist Sir,” said Aryan, as his eyes lost its
mischievous look, “At present I am reading account of Annabelle Foster who was
made to sleep with1800 men by her mother even before she was out of high school.
Her freaky mom followed a satanic cult that had weird sex orgies included in
their rituals. Fortunately she escaped
at the age of 18.”

“Her mother?” Malik almost shouted before checking himself
by reminding he was in a hospital, that too late in the night, or was it early
in the morning?

“Yes her mother” answered Aryan with deep pain resounding in
his voice.

“Your book and research have opened up a world I had not
known before and honestly I am sensing fear which I am not familiar with”, said
Malik, remembering the nightmare that had woken him up.

“You have my research papers?” Aryan faked anger.

Malik though taken aback initially could see through it.
“Yes” he confessed sheepishly. “Your
work is the reason why I am here at this odd hour”.

“There are dark
forces out there Mr. Malik, something that you haven’t seen in the people you
have locked up behind those cells. Those are normal criminals with simple
motives, here are the people who have more serious issues with darkest psyches
we have ever seen”, Aryan was lost in some thoughts as the words escaped from
him.

Something was amiss in the happenings of the past few days,
but he could only sense it; there was no way he could pinpoint it. That made
him very uneasy. It was like having something on the tip of your tongue but
being unable to utter it out loud.

“I feel so helpless being unable to catch the killer who is
mercilessly killing small girls so brutally that even Shaitan would shiver in
his boots. Over the last decade I have seen connection between 8 girls killed
without motives in a similar way. The evidence points at some kind of sacrifice
taking place, which makes me wonder whether more than 1 person is involved”

Aryan was listening with intent and he again had that uneasy
feeling of sensing the connection but unable to identify it.

Malik continued, “I think you can help me in this case with
your extensive knowledge about such cults and their ways”.

“Sure Malik Sir,” Aryan said with all the assurance he could
garner while being helpless on a hospital bed.

“But if you are to help me in this case, you are supposed to
keep your personal relations of being the best friend or neighbor aside”, Malik
said trying to measure how neutral Aryan could get.

“I will sir”, said Aryan imitating a soldier reporting to
his superior.

They both relieved the escalating tension and laughed. But,
Malik was serious once again.

“You mentioned that some people are born with devilish trait
and some with divine traits in your research. I cannot believe that. All men are
born equal” said Malik, trying to recall some points from Aryan’s research
papers.

“There are evidences that prove that to some extent. I am
still doing my research on it”, replied Aryan.

“Do you believe in the Satanic Cults? In our era?” Malik
still had trouble to believe about the shadowy figures that killed young girls.

“I have heard there are nearly 10 different cults operating
from Kochi alone”, said Aryan.

“You must have heard about the girl we rescued last week”.

“Yes, I did. Hope she recovers emotionally from this trauma”
said Aryan. He continued, “I was discussing the seeping of satanic cult into
Fort Kochi with Cyrus few months ago. He took time to go there and get some
photographs as well, but he did not find anything fishy”.

“What makes people worship Satan?” Malik was thinking aloud.

“That is not as complicated as you feel Mr. Malik errr Sir.
No matter what religion you belong, your worship gives spiritual power to the
good Supreme Being. But you need to follow a moral and chaste life to be in the
good books of God. Satanic worshippers are people of dark mind. They cannot
abide by the moral ethics hence they are trying hard to make Satan the
spiritual authority”.

“Do educated people believe in such rubbish Mr.Aryan?” asked
Malik not being able to accept this.

“Oh yes! There are many young, educated rich brats in the
cult” answered Aryan; very sure of what he was saying.

“You mean people like Cyrus?”

“Yes ‘like Cyrus’, but not him”, and then continued, “Most
of these people are pleasure seeking hedonists, who hold various memberships in
their cult. They try to reverse the power of divinity by doing everything
considered sacred in the reverse order or in a contradicting way. The prayers
are recited backwards, they follow incest, cannibalism, drinking and many do
many more activities which is forbidden in religious books”.

“Do you really think that normal people can become cannibals
by choice Mr. Aryan?” Malik was finding it difficult to accept the dark side of
humanity he was being exposed to.

“Drinking blood is a must in all satanic cults. How far is
cannibalism from that?” challenged Aryan.

“I don’t know what to say. I can handle the toughest goonda
on any day, but this is something I am not ready for”. Malik was looking ill at
ease and did not want to hear more for today.
He felt sick but he had one more thing to request.

“Can you sign a slip for me?”

“Are you robbing me of my fortune?” Aryan asked his
mischievous grin back on his face.

“Actually I took your books and papers to study. I need you to okay that for me.”

“On one condition,” Aryan said.

“Which is?” Malik asked.

“Come and visit me again Malik Sir, and when you do, get me
biryani and kebabs. Hospital food
sucks,” he said with a wink.

The Runaway Brat

Shekhar got up and stretched his thin frame. Again he had spent hours at the computer and
not written anything. His life, like his
unfinished manuscript was a mess. Should he just tear his life to pieces and
shove it down the throat of the dustbin? Everything happening in his life was
way beyond his control, especially the attraction Tara had for DD. The sparkle
in her eyes that he had seen at the launch of YTV for DD haunted Shekhar like a
witch’s curse. Shekhar groaned and banged his head against the desk.